Donald J. Trump was putting on a show — and it was entirely about him: his hurt, his feelings, his vanity and his revenge.

Separated from the Republican debate here by three miles and enough chutzpah to fill his own auditorium, Mr. Trump taunted, derided and laughed off the candidates who showed up to the Fox News forum that he so theatrically snubbed Thursday evening.

Flying into Des Moines in his gold and leather-lined 757, he held his own one-sided debate, before an adoring crowd of 700, and mused about how his lesser opponents across town were coping with his absence.

Of Jeb Bush, he teased: “He’s probably looking for me.” Pretending to be a lost child, he imitated a frightened Mr. Bush. “Has anyone seen Trump? Where is Trump? Where is he?”

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Jeremy W. Peters of The New York Times discusses key moments from the Republican presidential debate on Thursday in Des Moines, as the candidates sparred over immigration and other issues.Published OnJan. 29, 2016CreditCreditDoug Mills/The New York Times

He suggested that, right up until and even after the debate began, unnamed Fox News executives were calling him, pleading for him to reconsider his withdrawal. “How about now?” he said, mocking their entreaties and diminishing the event with a single blow. He said that was impractical. “Hasn’t it already started?”

It was a measure of how peculiar this primary season has become that on a night when Mr. Trump abandoned an official, seemingly mandatory, party-sanctioned presidential debate in a fit of pique, he somehow managed to overshadow it from the start.

Whatever stage he is on, it seems, becomes the main stage, in his mind and those of his fans.

“This is where the show is,” said Aaron Haskin, 37, one of hundreds who waited in long lines in the chilly air to hear Mr. Trump. “It’s kind of a thumb to the establishment.”

Mr. Trump and Roger Ailes, the chairman of Fox News, have both been described as master showmen. But Mr. Trump had ingredients that nobody else could dream of, drawing attention and energy away from the last debate before voting starts here on Monday.

Cable news networks offered saturation coverage, treating the arrival of Mr. Trump’s jet into the Des Moines airport with an avidity reserved for heads of state, an irresistible image opposite an empty debate stage. Graphics flashing across the screen documented the precise — but unbridgeable — distance between the two events. TV tickers breathlessly trumpeted his imminent arrival. “Awaiting Trump Event,” they blared.

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Donald J. Trump at the end of an event on Thursday ostensibly about veterans that he turned to his own advantage.CreditDamon Winter/The New York Times

Inside the hall, Mr. Trump conducted himself like an auctioneer and celebrity emcee. He asked his model wife, Melania, to stand up for all to admire. He ticked off the names of wealthy friends who he said had accepted his invitation to donate huge sums to veterans causes, who he credited with “unbelievable” Trumpian riches and success.

And then he plucked two surprised and sheepish looking Republican candidates for president out of the crowd (they had shown up ostensibly to support the veterans) and commanded them to join him onstage.

“Governor,” he yelled to Mike Huckabee. “Get up for a second. Get up.”

“Rick?” he shouted to former Senator Rick Santorum.

They both obeyed, though appeared a little uncomfortable.

Mr. Santorum gingerly approached the stage and stood off to its left, saying he did not wish to be photographed in front of the large blue-and-white Trump for president sign. “I’m supporting another candidate for president,” he said, dryly.

At every turn, Mr. Trump bragged about how much more compelling his event was than the rumpus unfolding at the same time across town.

“This is like the Academy Awards,” he said, to laughs. “We are told that we have more cameras than they do by quite a lot.”

Over at the Republican debate, there seemed to be a tacit acknowledgment of that reality.

It opened with a discussion of “the elephant not in the room” and the first three exchanges revolved almost entirely around Mr. Trump.

Ted Cruz offered his best impression of the New York billionaire’s unique, insult-laden style of discourse, deadpanning: “Let me say, I’m a maniac. And everyone on this stage is stupid, fat and ugly.”

“Now that we have gotten the Donald Trump portion out of the way,” Mr. Cruz mischievously continued.

Senator Marco Rubio could not resist a cutting, Trump-style moment of faint praise. “He’s an entertaining guy. He’s the greatest show on earth.”

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Some of the crowd for the event, held at Drake University.CreditDamon Winter/The New York Times

When it was Mr. Bush’s turn, he answered Mr. Trump’s not-yet-delivered taunt with more or less exactly the words Mr. Trump wanted to hear. “I kind of miss Donald Trump,” Mr. Bush said. “I wish he were here.”

Back at his rally, Mr. Trump, ever the author of his own creative narrative, tried to convince the Iowa crowd that his decision to skip the debate was not about vanity but something deeper: the principle of standing up for oneself.

And he said he would stand up for them, should he become president.

Whether that is persuasive in a state that is finicky about ritual and prides itself on its sacred responsibility as the first-in-the-nation to vote remains uncertain.

But for an evening, once again, he managed to elbow his way into the spotlight. And he seemed eager to put to rest any doubts that local residents might have about his commitment to Iowa. In fact, he declared, he wanted the next Trump to be brought into the world to be an Iowan.

He gestured toward his very pregnant daughter, Ivanka, and announced that she was just two weeks from her due date.

“We have a hospital all lined up, we’re doing great,” Mr. Trump said. “But I love the people of Iowa. I said Ivanka, it would be so great if you had your baby in Iowa!”

The crowd cheered. The candidate smiled and gripped both sides of the lectern.